


Escapade

by DarkP1nk



Series: Russia's Cavalry [2]
Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Character Study, F/F, Fluff and Humor, Mild Smut, POV Second Person, Tongue-in-cheek, outdoor fornication, zarya's pov
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-09
Updated: 2017-11-09
Packaged: 2019-01-31 07:37:56
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,549
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12677367
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DarkP1nk/pseuds/DarkP1nk
Summary: Lena persuades Aleksandra to join her on a midnight run across the beach. Aleksandra doesn't want anyone to see her in her boxer briefs. Somebody drowns - but not in water.





	Escapade

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote this like 6 months ago but I spiced it up in between working on What Happens In Russia. 
> 
> It's kind of pointless other than kinda establishing character traits, but I think it has a cute story. It takes place months after they've established and developed trust in one another, unlike WHIR (which takes place right after they start dating)

It's almost midnight in Gibraltar.

Normally, you're in your quarters at this hour, reading in your bunk. Sometimes, you're texting Lena, while your roommate keeps you up on the computer. If it's a really good night, you're _with_ Lena, molded to her body on a twin-sized mattress and already lulled to sleep by her fingers in your hair.

Tonight, instead, your girlfriend leads you down a shadowy corridor of the watchpoint with a skip in her step. Even with her hurried pace, her footsteps land with a silent, cat-like grace - you're pretty sure, in fact, that the little mouse couldn't make more noise with her feet if she tried.

You, on the other hand, struggle to maintain her speed and volume at the same time. You jog erratically behind just to keep up, minimizing your thumps against the floor as much as you can - though you admit you can't figure out why.

"Are you planning to fill me in about what we're doing?" You remember to ask the tiny woman, who turns abruptly to you just short of an exit.

"We're just takin' a--woah!!"

Unable to react quickly enough, you nearly trample Lena and knock the briefly dismayed, squeaking mouse off her balance. You lose your own trying not to trip over her feet, but manage to hook her into your arm, breaking her fall with your body right as you crash to the floor.

"Aah--!! ...Sorry, Myshka. You were saying?"

As you're recovering on your back, she giggles, face down between your breasts.

"...Oh Aleks!" She's so tickled, she laughs through her sentences. Her voice is muffled by your shirt, but you can make her words out.

"I just wanna have a lil' stroll on the beach with ya."

The tone in her voice is suspicious, let alone the fact that she pulled you out here in your socks and pajamas - come to think of it, this stained sleeveless shirt and boxers combination you call sleepwear is kind of the last thing you want anyone to see you out here wearing.

As the two of you get back up, you note that Lena is no more presentable than you at the moment. She's actually wearing something of yours as well. The washed-out, short-sleeved shirt she stole from you absolutely dwarfs her body and drapes over her like an oversized tunic.

If she tied some kind of sash around the waist, she could easily wear it as a dress - a pretty ugly dress, likely, but you think Lena looks cute no matter what she wears. (Biased? Nah...)

A thought crosses your mind as your visual scan ends at the woman's feet; Is she… wearing anything _under_ it...? It's not easy to tell - not that you would put it past Lena to be impulsive enough to go commando. After all, this entire 'trip to the beach' has only become apparent just now. You can barely start to imagine what she could be planning, and that's if she even _has_ a plan.

The thought that she might not immediately raises your heart rate as you consider it. You swear to Jeff; Lena's going to give you a heart attack one of these days with her spontaneous ideas.

She pushes the door before you open, bringing your attention back to her. You watch warily as she scurries out of the exit onto the sand, following hesitantly behind, until your feet stop you at the doorframe. A few meters out, Lena looks over her shoulder for you with a mischievous smile.

"Aw, come on! Everyone's asleep on the other side of the base! Nobody's gonna catch us, Aleks! ....Aleks?"

You hear her, but you can't tear your helpless gaze away from your girlfriend as you lean against the doorframe. From your position, a halo of moonlight surrounds her. Her eyes and hair sparkle. Her (your) shirt catches the breeze for just a moment, the thin cotton hugging her body's contours, and you completely forget to breathe. You're pretty sure the sight has left you briefly paralyzed with its beauty.

Meanwhile, concerns and questions storm around in your mind. The loudest ones resound themselves again; What if Lena's wrong? What could happen if you _are_ caught...?

"...Guess _you_ have to catch _me_ now, love."

Before you can snap yourself out of it, she takes off down some rocks, toward the shoreline. You watch her get smaller as she gains more distance, bright as a shooting star… but you're still frozen in place.

You shiver, the concept of pursuing her terrorizing your nervous system. You really shouldn't be out here. Someone could hear you two and find you out here, doing Kaplan-knows-what; if something happens to one or both of you, you could be suspended or discharged; or worse, they could learn of your terrible fashion sense in sleepwear - Anything but that…

...then, Lena's child-like, moonlit _smile_ returns to the forefront of your thoughts.

Just like that, your mind is made up.

You take a deep breath, count to three, and sprint after her - both to catch up to her, and to outrace your inhibitions before they try to hold you back again.

-

"You're too slow, Aleks! You gotta go faster!!"

"I'll show you what fast is when I catch you!"

"That's _if_ you catch me!" Lena cackles into the air.

Your brain responds to the taunts defensively and doses you with adrenaline. She's talking a _lot_ of smack right now. You've barely begun to run.

There's nothing but rocks and sand to be seen in this area of the beach. You're farther from the base than you thought Lena was going to go, and even as she laughs all the way down the shore, you've grown confident of your odds of being found out and come back at her taunts with playful, albeit somewhat sincere threats.

"Don't test me, mouse! You will regret it!"

You put the last of your strength into your sprint and lunge at Lena the moment you get close enough. You barely snag the end of her oversized shirt, but maintain your grip and pull it with you as you hit the ground. The friction absorbs your momentum and leaves you on your stomach in a pit.

"Haaah--!"

Your triumphant laughter, and vision, is interrupted by a face-full of wet sand. A disturbed crab skitters from its hiding place over your head - you jump up to your knees to dust it away from you, then get to shaking sand out of your hair.

"Kaplan damn it!! Aleks! Are you fuckin' serious!?"

Huh? You thought she was on the ground with you, but you can still hear her maniacal giggling over you a few feet away. You realize, as you clear your eyes of sand, that instead of taking Lena down... she simply tried to keep running, sliding right out of the neck hole of your shirt - which is still in your fist.

It answers your earlier question quite clearly, you find to your pleasant surprise; Lena's wearing _nothing_ underneath.

"Oi, gimme back muh shirt!" The tiny brunette dances in place as the sea breeze chills her bare skin. She struggles to conceal her breasts in her hands without shivering too hard, lest her thighs unclench and expose the tuft of hair in between. All you can do is laugh in your head.

She's done it _now_. She was going to regret her sass, and here it is - now it's _your_ turn to have some fun.

You get back to your feet with a menacing smirk and your t-shirt tight in your grip. She tries to snatch for it, but your hand jerks out of the way just in time.

"Oh! You're looking for _this_ shirt?" You wave it toward your desperate girlfriend, coaxing her to try again. "This is not _your_ shirt!"

"Aleks, givvit back!" Lena whines. When she attempts to psych you out and grab it, you raise it over her head. You take your time soaking up her distress, her failing attempts to jump up and reach giving you a sadistic urge to chuckle.

"Why? You don't need a shirt. It doesn't get cold in Gibralt--"

"DON'T YOU DARE SAY IT!"

Your joke triggers a response before it's even fully delivered. You're tackled onto your back with what you swear should be the force of a creature much larger than your girlfriend, sand and seafoam kicking up around you. The tide rolls in and washes over your face as you're opening your eyes, distorting your view of Lena against the moon and briefly turning her form into a glittering blob of amber.

"I am _so_ tired of you bringing that up..."

"Wow, Myshka! Where is that power at the gym?"

You start to laugh while you prop yourself up on your elbows, the water rolling down your face like tears. The tiny mouse straddles your hips and reaches around your body, cushioning your face with her chest as she takes advantage of your fit of bewildered, barking laughter. You can hear her own amused grunting as she grabs for the shirt in your--

Wait, that's not the right-- "Lena, what are y--!"

Before you can react, Lena yanks your own shirt up, over your head, and off your arms. You reflexively try to cover yourself, but she blocks your arm.

"Nuh! If I can't cover muh tits, neither can you." She peers down at you with a predatory grin, fidgeting with your stolen tank top until it becomes a bundled ball in her other hand.

You drop your arm in silent surrender.

"Atta girl," Lena responds.

The tiny woman rewards you with a kiss that you didn't expect, but gladly accept as you pull her into an embrace. Her palms surprise you again as they shamelessly grope both your breasts, a gasp forcing your lips away from hers. The dull tingle of her thumbs against your stiffened flesh ripples through your entire chest, right down your spine - right between your legs.

"Come to think of it," she says, lust thickening her voice, " _these_ tits are mine too."

As you watch her, you chew on your bottom lip, fighting back the noise you want to make. Lena has always been obsessed with your chest - it was actually through her obsession that you learned how much you _liked_ having your breasts touched. You tried to be prepared for something like _this_ to happen, but all of the stranger places you've ever messed around with your girlfriend have been, at the very least, surrounded by four walls...

Lena's tongue brings your focus back to her. You grit your teeth and clutch a handful of her hair as she plays with your nipple between her lips. Still, your eyes warily wander the beach for some kind of sign, or a voyeur trying to peep at the two of you, before it notices the flickering lights of houses atop the nearby ridge--Oh...

Your heart starts to pound. You're out here with your clothes off, and you've noticed the village in the landscape. _This_ was already a bit nerve-wracking, but you didn't need to see _that_ …

Now that you've become aware of it, you can't take your gaze away from it. In spite of the excitement that heats your body, terror storms, yet again, in your mind. This could be a private beach…What if it is? What if there's someone guarding it?

"Eyes on _me_ …"

Your captor raises her face to yours and steals a second, lingering kiss. You let your eyes fall shut as you give way to lie comfortably under her in the sand. Her helpless, eager fondling lights your body aflame.

...Still, there's a bell ringing in your head as you yield to your tiny girlfriend, and you reluctantly break the kiss to give her an uncertain look.

"Are you sure you want to do this out here, Myshka...?"

"Relax," she answers, simply, before she returns her lips to yours.

The tide rolls a wave of cool water over your body, almost on cue with Lena. You try to let it calm your nerves with a tentative sigh. She's definitely sure.

It's not that you don't _want_ to, but you're being scolded by other thoughts. All you can think about is how many rules you could be breaking…

...and yet, you think, as you observe Lena, completely naked in your lap, nipping down your neck and kneading your bare chest at the edge of the shore of a beach - a potentially private beach… your girlfriend seems to have no such qualms.

Could she be drunk...? No, this is just the kind of thing Tracer has always liked to do, for as long as you've known her. You've never been _this_ adventurous with her, but you know her well enough to be sure her shivering body is not a result of the breeze, but her brimming excitement.

This must be turning her on so much, but the mental alarms are so loud you would think she could hear them, let alone the Aleksandra in your head warning you that this is reckless, and to think about your jobs, and...

You hear Lena whisper amidst your thoughts, " _Sorry, love, I gotta..._ "

Then she cups one of your breasts, and her teeth finally silence the alarms in your mind as they sink into it. (You, however, cry out something very rude in Russian.)

Lena giggles at you with her mouth full. Her fidgeting hips paint the warm evidence of her arousal over your abdomen as she marks up your already spotted chest with gradually harder bites. You hiss through your teeth as you ghost a hand up her leg and investigate. Your cold, groping fingers surprise your wife and earn you a muffled squeal of encouragement.

The lecherous fire you've been feeling blazes in your mind's eye, burning your inhibitions once again to ashes. Almost like a switch flipping, your confidence powers itself back on. There's still that faint, lingering worry that someone _could_ catch you; for all you know, they're lounging in chairs with popcorn, enjoying the show you're both putting on...

...Maybe it's the full moon, or the heat of the moment, but there's no way you can deny your girlfriend right now. Not when she's impossible to look away from. Not when she's so wet...

"Подойти ближе."

The next wave washes in, and takes the last of your nerves away with it. You hook your arms around Lena's thighs, lift her knees from the sand, and slide her body up yours. She curiously shimmies forward in your grip, unsure of what you're doing at first, until her knees are straddling your head.

"Hm? What's that mean, love? Oh…"

When you raise your gaze to hers, she meets it instantly. For once, tonight, Lena is the flushed, breathless one, completely still and yielding to you.

You've finally caught your little mouse. You get your first taste of your prey, and she holds onto your hair for dear life with a shocked gasp.

"A-aah, s-slow down...!"

* * *

You can't believe the two of you are still out here. You can't believe you've wrestled around the moonlit beach with Lena, completely uninterrupted. Nobody has heard - or at least come to do anything about - the two of you moaning out at the moon for what must have been hours by now.

You _really_ can't believe how long Lena can keep you blinded by fireworks, either, as you recline against a rock a little further from the water, coming down from _another_ orgasm. Her fingers, still busily hooked within you, quickly light a new fuse. You grab her wrist to smother it back out.

"N-no more."

"One more," she urges you. You shake your head desperately.

"We can't," you pant back.

You know damn well she doesn't want to stop, but those annoying alarms in your mind are sounding off, warning you to return to Earth now that you've dropped from your high. Remember, Aleksandra - you're not a lovesick highschool girl daring to rebel with her crush on a school night. You're both soldiers in training, with an obligation to partake in that training... well…very soon, you imagine.

It must be two or three in the morning now, here at Gibraltar. Normally, you're asleep at this hour. On very rare occasions, you're watching the stars from a clifftop or rooftop, still waiting for Hana to get off the computer. Some of the soldiers on the base are going to be awake in just an hour or two - you usually are.

"Oh Kaplan, you're right!" You watch your wife's sand-covered butt as she crawls to the water to rinse her hands off. "We gotta get up for work in a bit. Shit, love. I'm sorry. Got a little carried away, there."

"My thoughts exactly," you answer her with a chuckle, as you're standing and grabbing your damp boxers from the ground. They're thoroughly saturated with sea water, but all you have - more than Lena has. As you shake sand out of them and try to wring them as dry as possible, your eyes dart around your feet for your tank top. Where'd Lena toss that thing?

"Where is my shirt?" You look to Lena, in the process of pulling the T-shirt she brought back over her. She starts to look around the beach herself. There's nothing in your sight, nor hers, apparently. Stricken with mutual realization, you both turn around and look out at the ocean at the same time.

...Just as you suspected.

Lena starts to giggle, but seeing your tank top as a gray, rippling speck, twenty meters from your reach, doesn't amuse you as much. The tide took it when you were both busy, and neither of you noticed it in time.

You sigh. You weren't prepared to go swimming tonight, but you need to cover up. How long will this delay you...?

"Oi, whataya think you're doing!?" Your tiny girlfriend grabs you by the arm as you step toward the tide, the cold water washing over your feet. You glance back at her.

"Probably what _you_ think I'm doing."

You get knee-deep into the water with Lena still desperately trying, and failing, to restrain you. Her feet drag sand along as you pull her effortlessly against her attempt to resist.

"...No… Aleks! Stop! We gotta get back!"

"What else am I supposed to do!?"

Your girlfriend responds with a helpless shrug. "… Run as fast as you can to the barracks?"

"I am not going back in there without a shirt, _Myshka_..."

Your absent gaze drifts from the ghost-like blob in the water to the direction of the watchpoint. You knew this was a terrible idea, and now you feel the fear from earlier stabbing you spitefully through the chest.

What can you even do? Do you swim out for your shirt, simply for decency? Or do you, dare you entertain it, take your girlfriend's advice... and run as fast as you can...? How fast can you run? What are the odds of someone being out of their room this early? Is there an excuse you can prepare yourself with...?

Here comes the storm of questions. Your heart pounds with terror.

...Wait a second. You look back to Lena, still hanging off your arm; the massively oversized cotton cloth hanging off her, rippling in the sea breeze.

That's _your_ shirt.

-

After a rather silent ten minutes, your girlfriend says something into your ear while her head rests on your shoulder.

"We're gonna get in _so_ much trouble..."

"It's a little bit late for regrets, don't you think?"

"Oh, I don't regret anything. I just hope nobody sees us..." A yawn interrupts Lena.

"If we are seen, I'd rather be seen looking like this," you tell your tiny, tired mouse. You shrug in punctuation, as you carry her with a hurried stride across the moonlit beach.

She chuckles sleepily. "Yeah, me too. Then we'll _both_ get kicked out."

You forced Lena to share the only shirt available, and the only way to do that was to stuff her under it while you wear it. Now she locks her limbs around your body as she clings on with all her strength to avoid sliding down with your movement and exposing her bare rump to the air.

Each time she loses the fight with gravity, you prop her back up with a quick bump of your arm, pull the edge of the shirt back over her, and send her into a fit of musical giggling. You think it's the best idea you've had all night, personally.

"...Aleks."

"Mm?" You raise your eyebrows but keep your gaze ahead of you. The watchpoint is finally in view and you're on full alert, scanning its perimeters for movement.

"You know you're _shivering_ , right?"

You shrug again. "So? It's a little--..." Your mouth hangs open as you stop yourself.

"Would you say it's a bit nippy?"

"No--"

"A bit _cold,_ love?" Lena lifts her face to look at yours with a menacing, expectant grin. You roll your eyes, avoiding her damning gaze.

You can't avoid smiling back, though. You'll admit that she caught you shivering. You'll admit that it's not the _warmest_ night on the beach at the moment... but she'll never hear you admit it out loud.


End file.
